Jack's Not Jealous
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: Ianto has some of his needs met elsewhere, but Jack's not jealous...


Ianto dropped a file on Jack's desk as he was pulling on his jacket. "For your signature… each of them," he said.

Jack looked up at him with a pout.

"Reports to the Crown, Jack. Necessary."

Jack sighed and started looking for his pen, then paused. "Hey, uh… as you're off tonight… if I get these signed in quick order…."

"I have an appointment tonight, actually. A bit behind schedule as it is. See you in the morning!"

Jack frowned, watching Ianto hurry out of the Hub. Once Ianto was out of sight, Jack turned back to the folder in front of him and glared. What was this appointment, anyway? Jack put down his pen and went for his coat, knowing it was a bad idea and also knowing he'd never be able to put it out of his mind otherwise.

Jack took the invisible lift up and waited for Ianto to pass, walking up from the boardwalk after he'd locked up the tourist office for the night. He hung back for a few moments, then followed as Ianto walked round the bayside toward Techniquest and walked into an apartment building. Whoever he was visiting buzzed him up rather quickly.

Jack decided it wouldn't be fair to jump to conclusions. Maybe Ianto was just paying a quick visit to a friend and would be off to his 'appointment' any minute. It was an hour and ten minutes because Ianto left the building again, heading this time to his car in the carpark and driving off.

Ordinarily, Jack could convince himself that Ianto had an appointment with his accountant or someone who'd offered to meet at his home after-hours, but that didn't explain why Ianto looked so blissfully relaxed when he walked out. Or why he looked somewhat… mussed.

No, there was only one explanation that Jack could see for what sort of appointment that had been. Of course, it wasn't as though there was anything official going on between them anyway, so it wasn't like it was… wrong. It was just that Jack didn't imagine Ianto would _want_ to do that….

Jack told himself that he was just a bit surprised as he walked back to the Hub. It wasn't like it mattered. Ianto was his own man, could do whatever he wanted. And if Jack's teeth were clenched, it _wasn't_ because he was biting back hurt feelings. Jack went directly up his office without talking to anyone and sat down, picking up his pen, signing off on reports for the next two hours.

When Jack's mobile rang and he saw it was Ianto calling, he wasn't sure for a moment whether to answer or not. He only hesitated briefly, of course.

"Hello," Jack answered, trying not to sound too petulant.

"Hi," Ianto said, sounding like he was still more relaxed than Jack had ever known him to be. "How's the work?"

"Fine, thanks. Plenty of forms signed."

"Good. Hey, if there's nothing up with the Rift or anything, you could come round. No sense you sleeping in that bunker when half my bed's going begging. I mean, I'm done in, so nothing energetic, but, you know…."

Jack's jaw dropped and he vaguely wondered when a 21st century morality had set in that had him feeling offended at the notion of coming round for a cuddle after Ianto'd already had the main course. Nevertheless…. "Lots I need to get on with here tonight. Sorry. Maybe another time," Jack said, as mildly as he could manage.

"Well, ok, if you have to," Ianto said, not sounding too bothered. "Invitation stands if you like, of course. Otherwise, I'll just see you in the morning. Night, Jack."

"Yeah," Jack said, ringing off and shoving the phone into his desk. The whole thing had him so wound up by then that he doubted he'd get much sleep no matter where he was.

…

"Morning!" Ianto called cheerfully, setting about getting the Hub ready for another day's work.

"Good morning," Jack replied, rather more shortly, as he stalked along the catwalks.

Ianto flickered a glance up at Jack, wondering what was bothering him. A few minutes later, Ianto took his cup and Jack's up to Jack's office for what had become their routine morning chat – whenever there wasn't some early morning crisis to be averted. He set Jack's coffee on the desk and pulled the other chair up. He silently watched for a few moments as Jack devoted all of his attention to the file in front of him. Finally, Ianto couldn't stand it anymore.

"What's wrong, Jack?" he asked gently. It looked to him like Jack hadn't slept well – he'd seen the signs of that too many times – and maybe it had been nightmares or a late night call. He just hoped there hasn't been a death.

"Nothing's wrong," Jack mumbled.

Ianto sighed. "You don't have to give details, but if there's something I can do to help…."

Jack finally looked up. "Why would I need help? I said there's nothing wrong."

"Oh, then you're always this snappish in the morning?"

Jack stared. "Well it's not like you to be so -"

Ianto's brow quirked. "Yes?"

"How was your night?" Jack suddenly asked.

It was Ianto's turn to stare, this time in confusion. "It was fine, thanks," he responded, wondering what Jack was driving at.

"Your appointment went alright?"

"Yeah, was brilliant. Really needed it."

"I see. And I suppose that's something you can't get closer to home?"

Now Ianto was genuinely muddled. "Don't know what you're on about…."

Jack stood and paced away from his desk. "Well it's not that I have expectations, but I just kinda had the impression that if you needed something like that… I would have thought it would be the sort of thing we could… you know… work on, together."

"Why would I do that? I wouldn't ask you to stitch a cut, I'd ask Owen. Because he's, you know, a qualified professional."

" _Qualified professional_?" Jack parroted, gobsmacked.

"Yes. It may seem very simple, but a deep tissue massage can actually be harmful if done by someone not properly trained. Brad's been a masseur nearly as long as I've been alive, and -"

"Wait. Did you say massage? Shoulders, back, calves?"

"Yes, Jack. Massage. Shoulders, back, calves, hamstrings, arms as well. Why? What were you…. Oh. Never mind."

"So, that was your appointment last night, a massage?"

"Yes. And that was why I was knackered when I rang and invited you round. _Not_ because I'd already had my fill."

"Uh, ok. Sorry. I, uh…." Jack sheepishly sat back down. "But… why didn't you just ask me for one?"

"Because, as I mentioned, my masseur is a fully-trained professional, practicing 20 years now."

"I'm trained, and pretty damn good, too. Was a side thing I did for a while in the late 80s, early 90s. One of many ill-fated attempts to distance myself from this place."

" _You_ were a masseur? Seriously?"

"Yeah. And not just the happy ending kind, thank you."

"Huh. Wonders never cease."

Jack rolled his eyes. "So, you _could_ ask me, you know."

"Well, maybe sometimes. I think I'm going to keep my regular masseur, though. You might be very professional about it, but I'm fairly sure I wouldn't have the same restraint with you kneading my back. And I do occasionally need the actual treatment _without_ the happy ending."


End file.
